You're Free
by Accalia Lea
Summary: 16 year old Dean is rescued from torture by Castiel. Will Detective Novak be able to help Dean before it's too late? How long will it take for these two to realize that they are meant to be together?
1. Chapter 1

As always, if you like my work please favorite and/or review. This will be a multi-chapter fic, but I'm not sure how long yet.

Warnings: Character death. Also Dean is 16 in this, so underage. This will become yaoi later, so if you don't like that, don't read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters!

 **Chapter 1**

When Castiel woke up that morning he had expected it to be a normal day. Of course, being a homicide detective, a "normal" day for him meant possibly solving a crime or seeing a few bodies. It didn't really affect him that much anymore. The nightmares he'd had at first had faded after his first year of work and now that he'd been working here, in Kansas, for nine years he experienced perhaps one work related nightmare every three or four months.

He showered quickly before attempting to comb his slightly long, black hair into some sort of order. He knew it wouldn't stay that way for long anyways. Giving up on the hair, he took a moment to study his face in the mirror. Bright blue eyes looked back at him with slightly dark circles under them and there was a bit of stubble on his chin and jaw, but he didn't feel like shaving this morning so he left the bathroom to dress. He was waiting for his bagel to come out of the toaster when he got a phone call. The bagel popped up as he hung up the phone and he threw it into a napkin as he rushed to grab his black trench coat and leave.

His boss had just informed him that they had received a reliable tip on the location of a serial killer that Castiel had been chasing for nearly four years now. His name was Crowley and his crimes ranged from fraud to burglary and beyond. The murders that man had committed were numerous and terrible. The victims he let live had revealed to police that the man liked to call them his "toys" and he would "play" with them until he lost interest or they died. A few of his crime scenes had graced Castiel's nightmares over the years and he couldn't wait to lock the man up. He barely tasted his bagel as he rushed to the station. So much for a normal day.

Dean Winchester was not a coward. Regardless of the fact that he had only been 14 when he and Sam were kidnapped by Crowley, Dean had always been fearless and cocky. However, his fearlessness had been stripped away the day that Crowley had discovered his weakness...Sam. It had taken the serial killer a few tries to finally break Dean. Making the boy watch as he had tortured the younger of the brothers had only angered Dean and made him even less compliant than before. The same effect happened when Dean could not see, but only hear the torture. He had only truly broken down when he could neither see nor hear his younger brother at all.

Dean didn't seem to care what happened to him as long as Sam was safe so Crowley had decided to turn it into a game. Torturing Dean had been fun for a while, but the boy's lack of what he called "enthusiasm" had bored him so Crowley decided to make Dean torture others. He accomplished this by promising Dean that if he didn't inflict whatever torture he was ordered to preform then Crowley would preform it...on Sam.

Dean had only refused once, at which time Crowley made him watch as he worked on Sam. From then on Dean did whatever he was told to do to whomever he was told to do it to. Crowley's favorite part was watching Dean's face as he worked. The boy hated himself for doing those horrible things almost as much as he hated Crowley himself. After two years of living like this with the serial killer Dean had lost any hope of ever being rescued. His hopes of escaping had died much quicker as he was kept in a concrete cell with an iron bar door, and one very small iron bar window at the back, when he wasn't in one of the three "procedure" rooms. Crowley had subordinates who would escort him whenever he left his cell so Dean was never alone when he wasn't locked up.

Despite two years of this, the now 16 year old was still very strong. When he had hit puberty last year he had filled out and his strength was now visible in the muscles of his arms and broad shoulders and Crowley noticed as he watched him work. The slightly stocky, balding, British, serial killer couldn't decide if he was jealous or just angry. He couldn't stand the way his men looked at Dean. The boy was his toy and his alone!

When Dean finished a particularly grueling day of torture, that had ended in another dead body, Crowley instructed his men to lead Dean to the killer's private chambers instead of back to the cell. The men did as they were told, but Crowley caught the look in their eyes. They knew what was about to happen to the young man, but they said nothing. Dean knew better than to ask questions so he allowed himself to be led into Crowley's chambers and strapped to a smaller wooden table. Once his wrists and ankles were bound the men left the room and Crowley entered, closing and locking the door behind him.

"You're starting to bore me Dean," he started as he removed his usual suit jacket and started rolling up his sleeves. "How do you propose we fix that?"

Dean stayed silent, unsure if the question was rhetorical. As Crowley walked up to the table he was on he began to feel nervous. The serial killer hadn't physically tortured him in nearly a year and a half, but he clearly remembered the pain. Crowley proceeded to cut off Dean's ratty old t-shirt and scrub pants, leaving him only in his boxers. Dean clenched his jaw and focused on trying not to shake.

The serial killer sucked in a breath as he looked at the boy's nearly naked form. He was muscular and numerous scars marred his entire body, a fact that made Crowley proud as he was the one to inflict them. The man licked his lips as he decided what to do with the young man.

"I've got a few ideas," he answered his own question. "Be a good boy and try not to wiggle or scream to much now." Dean closed his eyes.

As Castiel arrived outside of the warehouse with the swat team two thoughts struck him at once. First, how had he not noticed this place sooner? Second, how had no one else ever noticed or said anything about the smell? Perhaps to the ignorant mind this smell could be excused as sewage or perhaps a by product of animal processing, but to Castiel the smell was unmistakable...rotting human flesh. He shuddered involuntarily as he moved into position with the rest of the team.

Their plan was to do this as silently as possible. Crowley was known to be a slippery little weasel and Castiel didn't want to take any chances of losing him. Every member of the team had silencers on their weapons and they were instructed to capture if they could, but kill if there was any chance of a guard raising an alarm. A lock pick let them into the building.

The scenes they encountered in the building were worse than anything Castiel had seen so far. Crowley was clearly very comfortable in this building as it was much less neat than any of his other crime scenes, like he didn't care as much about cleaning up after his so call "play times" here. The inside smelled worse than the outside had and many of the men quickly pulled on their gas masks in an attempt to block some of the stench.

There had only been a couple of people still alive in what appeared to be the holding area and they were quickly rushed outside to the medical team. There were a lot of bodies, however. A few of them appeared to be emaciated as though they had been there a long time without food before being killed, but most of them appeared to have met their deaths in relatively good health and Castiel suspected that new victims were brought in often.

The only body that seemed irregular to Crowley's style was that of a young boy. The body was hidden in a long wooden box in the back of a room that appeared to be used for torture. It was old, perhaps stored like this for at least a year, but it was well preserved. He was very young, perhaps even preteen, and he had slightly long, blonde hair. Bruising around his neck indicated that he had either been strangled or hanged. There was a note in the boys front pocket. It was wrinkled and slightly faded with age, but still legible. Castiel took a moment to read it before following the swat team.

 _Dean, if you ever find this letter I just want you to understand one thing. I took my own life. There was nothing else I could do to help you and I knew Crowley was using me to force you to do bad things. Now that I'm dead, you're free. Get out as soon as you see a chance. Love, Sam._

Castiel shook his head, but left the letter with the body for the evidence crew to handle later. Something about those names was ringing a bell for him, but he couldn't think about it right now. They were so close to catching Crowley and he wasn't going to let the serial killer get away. After they had cleared all of the open rooms they moved to a final door at the end of a long corridor. This door was locked and once again a lock pick opened it.

When Castiel followed the two swat team members into the room he did not expect the scene he saw. Crowley was standing on the opposite side of a table from the door and had seen them come in, but he did not look up from the boy that was currently strapped down before him. His left hand was cupping the boy's crotch and with his right hand he was making small cuts to the boys forearms, chest and abs.

"Hello boys," he spoke without looking up.

"Drop the knife and move away from the boy," the leader of the swat team spoke authoritatively.

"Aw hell. I wasn't ready to lose my favorite toy just yet," Crowley responded as he squeezed gently with his left hand.

The boy made no sound and Castiel feared he may be dead, judging by the lack of response and the amount of blood he could see. The swat team already had their weapons pointed at Crowley, but when he made no move to comply they all turned on their red dots. The serial killer glanced down at his chest and then crossed his eyes momentarily to observe the dots on his chest and forehead and raised his hands slowly. He tossed the knife over the table and onto the floor.

"Okay, okay. Let's be civil about this," he smiled in a way that made Castiel's blood run cold. He moved forward and slapped cuffs on the mans wrists, trying to ignore the warmth of the blood on his hands and wrists.

After reading the man his rights he allowed the swat team to lead Crowley out and to a transport vehicle. He wasn't going anywhere now and Castiel wanted to check on this boy. When he walked up to the table he looked at the boy's face. The kid was dirty and covered in a lot of blood, not all of which appeared to be his. Crowley must have been working on this boy for a while as the blackness of a bruise was already setting in around his left eye.

Castiel reached forward and pressed his fingers to the boy's neck to check for a pulse, but just as his fingers touched the skin the boy's eyes sprung open and he looked up at Castiel fearfully. The detective withdrew his hand and began undoing the straps that bound the boy to the table.

"You're going to be okay now. We arrested Crowley and we're taking you to safety."

"Did you get Sam out?" The boy's voice was husky with unshed tears and for the first time it registered in Castiel's mind that the boy had not been crying or screaming at all while Crowley was working on him. His next thought had him remembering why the names on that letter had rung a few bells.

"You must be Dean...Winchester right?" Castiel asked as the boy continued to lay on the table even though all of his bonds were removed. Dean only nodded in response. The detective had known those names from a newspaper article he had read a couple years ago. The boys had been kidnapped from a home in South Dakota. Their father had not reported the kidnapping until several days after the fact and then only at the insistence of a close friend that they all had been staying with. The father had told police that he believed the boys had just gone out for a while as they sometimes did and that he wasn't worried.

For the first time in a long time Castiel found that he did not know how to answer Dean's question about Sam. He feared that whether he answered the question honestly or not, the boy may become belligerent. The silence hung between them for a few moments before Dean spoke.

"You'll be taking Sam out later then..." Dean swallowed hard and closed his eyes for another moment. "What's your name?" he asked suddenly, eyes still closed.

"Castiel," the detective replied. The boy clearly understood the silence and knew that his brother was dead. He would have suggested that Dean sit up or get off of this table, but he didn't know how much blood the boy had lost or how hurt he might be so he was just waiting for the medical team to come down to them.

"Like the angel," Dean's voice was a whisper now and he sat up very slowly as the tears finally started to fall. He reached out and gripped Castiel's sleeve with his left hand and sobbed silently into his right. The detective knew that handling trauma victims was delicate work and with his slight social ineptitude he knew this was out of his ballpark, so he stood silently and let the boy clutch his sleeve. The medical team came in and approached them slowly. The two EMTs looked at Dean and then up at Castiel who nodded.

"Dean, the EMTs are here to fix you up now. Is it okay if they touch you?" Dean quickly looked up at them, his sobs having died down to slow tears, and then gripped Castiel's sleeve tighter.

"Please don't leave me, Cas," Dean pleaded.

 _Crap,_ Castiel had forgotten that trauma victims like this often imprinted on the first person to show them kindness. He was definitely in over his head here, but it was to late to turn back now. He offered a small, gentle smile to the boy before him and nodded.

"I'll be right here Dean." He didn't even mind his new nickname.

Dean had released Castiel's sleeve long enough to get off of the table and onto the gurney that the EMTs had brought with them. Once he was laying down again he frantically reached out for the man and Cas had quickly taken his hand. Dean then nodded to the EMTs and let them begin trying to stop some of the bleeding so that they could move him to the ambulance. He flinched when they began to touch him and closed his eyes. Anyone else would have assumed he was in physical pain, but Castiel could tell the pain was more mental than it was physical.

The ride to the hospital in the ambulance consisted of the EMTs continuing to wipe away the blood and take Dean's vitals. They spoke to each other, but Dean and Castiel remained silent, the boy never letting go of his hand. This continued at the hospital, others talking around them, but they were silent. Cas did have to speak to the doctors and explain the situation, but luckily they already knew most of it as the other victims had arrived a little bit earlier than they had. The doctors finished cleaning Dean up before inserting an IV and immediately giving him a sedative. The boy was asleep soon after and a couple of doctors sat down to begin stitching his numerous cuts.

"Detective Novak," the doctor assigned to Dean's case greeted Castiel in the hallway in front of Dean's room. They shook hands and Castiel glanced back into the room.

"So what's the plan?" Castiel asked. "How will he be treated?"

"All of his injuries were external. They have been cleaned and will be bandaged after the stitching is completed. We'll keep a close eye on them to make sure there's no infection and we are already administering an antibiotic. Once he wakes in the morning we'll have someone from psych come to speak with him to assess his mental state. Would you like us to keep you updated on his progress?"

"I won't be leaving for now," Castiel sighed. "He already imprinted on me not long after I rescued him in that building."

"Oh dear. Our psychiatrist, Jessica, is going to love hearing that," the doctor responded sarcastically. "Should I have a cot set up for you in his room then?"

Cas nodded and the doctor left to make it happen. Once Dean was bandaged and the staff had all cleared out of the room Castiel walked back in and stood beside the bed for a moment. Now that the boy was clean the detective could make out more details and he found himself studying Dean's face for a moment. The doctors had been able to get Dean's medical records and he now knew that the boy was 16. His brown hair was so light it could almost be considered blonde in a certain light. There was a very light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and on his cheekbones. The lower portion of his face was covered in what appeared to be a couple days growth of stubble.

Castiel sighed once more before moving to his cot which was against the wall to the right of Dean. He found himself saddened by the fact that this boy would most likely never attend a normal high school. Dean would have been a heart-breaker with the ladies. Cas had retrieved the necessary paperwork for the arrest from a coworker a little earlier and he took a moment now to fill it out. Someone from the station would come by in the morning to pick it up. Once he finished he felt the weariness of the day come crashing down on him and he lay down to sleep.

The detective woke around 6AM the next morning. He sat up slowly and stretched. The cot was terribly uncomfortable and Cas thought that if he would be staying here for a while he would have to bring a decent sleeping bag or some sort of cushion for it. Glancing at the bed he noticed that Dean was still asleep. Hopefully the sedation and medications he was given would allow the boy to rest peacefully for the first time in what must be nearly two years. Not wanting to disturb the boy, Cas decided to go down to the cafeteria and get some breakfast and coffee.

When he returned from breakfast, nursing his third cup of coffee, Dean was starting to wake up. He had been heavily sedated the night before so the doctors had told Cas that it was unlikely for the boy to wake up before 7am. Dean's eyes flicked nervously around the room before locking with Castiel's. The detective was momentarily speechless, the sharp green eyes boring into his own, but quickly shook his head and smiled kindly at the boy.

"Good morning. How are you feeling Dean?" He made no move to get any closer to the bed. The last thing he wanted to do was spook him this early in the morning.

"Um..." Dean's throat felt scratchy and he coughed as he tried to clear it. "Thirsty," he finally responded and Cas walked over to the small table near the end of Dean's bed where there was a pink pitcher filled with water and a small, matching pink cup. He filled the cup about three quarters of the way and then passed it over to the boy who grabbed it in such a manner that his hand did not touch Cas's, and then drained it quickly.

"Better?" Cas asked as he set the pitcher back onto the small table.

"Better. Thank you," Dean answered. His eyes then darted to the door behind Castiel and his face took on a look of guarded caution. Cas followed his gaze and noticed a woman walking into the room. He moved to stand just to Dean's right and said nothing.

"Hello Dean, my name is Jessica. How are you feeling this morning?"

She introduced herself and smiled kindly at Dean, completely ignoring Castiel. Cas realized that this must be the psychologist that was mentioned last night. When Dean didn't respond she took a few steps closer to the bed and observed as Dean immediately reached his hand out and grasped the sleeve of the detective as if to comfort himself with the touch. Cas took this opportunity to introduce himself.

"Good morning doctor. My name is Castiel Novak. I'm the detective that found Dean during an arrest. I would like to help him so if there is anything I can do please let me know."

"Very well. Would it be alright if I have a word with you in the hallway please?"

She offered another kind smile to Dean, but Cas could feel the annoyance she felt toward their current situation and was again reminded of the conversation about her last night. Dean slowly released his grip on Cas's sleeve as the doctor moved further away from him and Cas smiled at Dean before following the doctor into the hall. She closed the door to Dean's room behind them and then glared at Castiel.

"Why on earth is that boy bonded to you? Don't they teach detectives anything about properly handling trauma victims?! That boy should be building that extremely important connection with me, a highly trained professional, not you!" She wasn't shouting at him, but even in her quiet tone, Cas could sense her anger. Finally she sighed. "Well, there's nothing that we can do about it now. I just hope you realize what you've gotten yourself into. It will take a long time for this boy to heal and until that happens he's with you. I suggest you just do your best to help me do my job sir."

"Like I said, I want to help him. Just tell me what to do," Castiel responded calmly.

Two hours later Jessica left Dean's room feeling just as frustrated as she had been when she had arrived. Dean had refused to speak to her unless Castiel had assured him it was okay and when he did agree to speak to her it was only with her sitting as close to the door as she possibly could be with it closed so that she was no where near the boy. This was not how she liked to build relationships with her patients at all. It was going to take a long time to get through to this boy. The first step was always to get them to talk about what had happened to them, but Dean had clammed up immediately when she had asked. The only thing he seemed okay with discussing for now was what had been happening to him at the moment when Castiel had found him with Crowley.

During this time the doctors had come in to change his bandages and Jessica and Castiel had, for the first time, seen the full extent of the damage that had been inflicted on the boy that day. Dean had continued to speak and had pointed out one wound in particular. It was on the left side of his chest just beneath his collar bone and Cas remembered that it was the cut that Crowley had been working on when he found them. It was in the shape of a "C" and Dean had explained that the serial killer had wanted to mark him so that everyone would know who he belonged to. Apparently the man had planned to write his full name, but was thankfully interrupted before he had gotten that far.

Dean had been given another dose of pain medication after the doctors re-bandaged him so he had wanted to sleep. Jessica had nodded and left the room, promising to come back the next day. Castiel decided to run home quickly to shower and change clothes. He also wanted to grab his laptop so that he could get some work done while he stayed at the hospital. When he returned Dean was still asleep so he took a seat on his cot and began sorting through some files on his laptop.

"No," Dean mumbled and Cas immediately realized the boy was sleep talking. "Please...I'm sorry." A short cry followed, startling Castiel. When he looked up he noticed tears falling down Dean's face.


	2. Chapter 2

You've been asking for it so here it is! Another chapter. This one is a little short, but more is in the works currently and I hope to update again soon. Thanks for the reviews and favorites!

Once again, I do not own Supernatural or the characters!

 **Chapter 2**

One week later the hospital was ready to discharge Dean. They strongly suggested placing him in a mental facility for further treatment, but Dean nearly had a panic attack at the suggestion and Castiel quickly assured them that the boy could stay with him and he would make sure they didn't miss any appointments. The younger man strongly disliked Jessica and was not thrilled about coming back to see her, but he reluctantly agreed so long as Cas stayed with him.

The hospital had provided Dean with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but the boy had no other clothing to speak of, except for his combat boots and leather jacket, so Castiel's first stop was a local clothing store. There weren't very many people inside the store, but Castiel could tell Dean was nervous. After all, the young man hadn't been around anyone other than murderers or victims for the past two years, so Castiel understood how Dean must be feeling. They quickly picked out four pairs of blue jeans, some black t-shirts and some flannel button-up shirts that Dean had enthusiastically pointed out. They also grabbed a pack of socks and underwear before making their way to the check-out counter.

 _So he'll look like a lumberjack, but at least he'll be happy,_ Cas thought as he paid the cashier. The drive back to Castiel's house was a silent one, neither male seeming to know what to say. When they reached the driveway the detective turned off his vehicle and led the way to the door in the garage as the garage door rumbled shut behind them. He dropped his keys in a bowl on the table by the door and then flicked the lock back into place once Dean was inside. Cas then kicked off his shoes and hung his coat on a hook before turning his attention back to his house guest.

"You can just leave your boots on that rug and hang your jacket up anywhere," Castiel said before turning to walk into his kitchen. He went to the fridge and began pulling out ingredients for their dinner. After a moment he realized that Dean still hadn't followed him and then looked up to seen the young man still standing by the door, boots and jacket now removed. When their eyes met Dean finally spoke.

"What would you like me to do now?" Castiel sighed sadly. Clearly it would take a long time for Dean to realize that he was free of Crowley's grasp.

"What would you like to do?" he tried.

"Um..." Dean shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable. After a moment of thought he spoke again. "Can I...is it okay if I watch you?"

"You want to watch me cook?" Castiel cocked his head curiously and Dean blushed.

"Is that okay?"

"Of course it is. If you want anything all you have to do is ask Dean."

Dean walked into the kitchen then, and took a seat on a stool next to Castiel's kitchen island. He watched while Cas prepared a dinner of chicken, mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables. The vegetables brought a slight frown to his face, but when a plate was placed before him he cleaned it. The meals Crowley had given him had kept him alive, but this meal...Dean couldn't believe he was eating a meal this good.

When they were finished eating, Castiel placed the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and then walked down a short hallway and opened a door, carrying the bags from the clothing store with him. When Dean walked in he saw that it was a bedroom. It didn't look like it was used very often, but there was a bed and a dresser, as well as a bedside table and a desk in one corner. Cas placed the bags on the desk and then turned to face Dean.

"This will be your room so make yourself comfortable here. My room is that door directly across the hall so if you need anything at all, that's where I'll be." He looked up and saw Dean's wide-eyed stare. "Is something wrong?"

"No! I just...uh, didn't expect..." he gestured at the room, "...all of this." Castiel smiled sweetly at him.

"Well, I'll let you get settled." He went across the hall to his own bedroom, leaving both of their doors open as he went. Cas decided that if Dean wanted the door closed he could make that decision on his own. He changed into his pajama pants and turned off the light before getting into bed. Earlier he had decided to leave the hallway light on, just in case Dean needed to get up, so now he rolled onto his left side to face away from the light and drifted off to sleep.

Dean didn't know how long he stood there, just looking at this room. He had been living in a small cell for the past two years, but even before that he had never had a room to himself. Bedrooms or motel rooms were always shared with...Dean couldn't bear to finish that thought. It hurt too much. Instead he walked over to the desk and pulled the clothing out of the bags, bringing it to the dresser near the opposite wall and placing them in drawers.

When he was satisfied that the clothing was sufficiently organized he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into the bed. A small sound of pleasure escaped his lips as he stretched out and pulled the blankets over himself. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right away, but he was content to lay there. His thoughts turned to the day he just had and he found himself wondering about what would happen once they knew the truth about him.

Castiel had been nothing but nice to him so far. The man had bought him clothes, fed him, and given him an awesome place to sleep, but he was also a detective. _A very sexy detective,_ Dean caught himself thinking and immediately blushed. The man did have captivating eyes, and his hair always had what his dad had referred to as a 'just fucked look' to it. Dean shook his head. It would be best for him not to get attached. Eventually he would end up in jail for the things he had done and he certainly didn't want to have to think about what could have been while he was back behind bars. With that thought he rolled onto his right side, facing the door out of habit, and drifted into an uneasy sleep. When Dean woke next, it was to the sound of Castiel's voice calling out to him and his bedroom light being turned on.

"Dean! Hey, Dean. It's okay, it's just a dream," Cas first called and then switched to a more soothing tone of voice as he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Dean sat up, drenched in sweat and panting heavily. His sleep hazed mind was still lost in the horror of the nightmare and it took him a moment of looking around to realize that he was no longer strapped to a table with Crowley standing over him. As his eyes finally met Castiel's, Dean began to feel much calmer. After a few more moments of them silently staring into each other's eyes, Cas spoke again.

"Are you okay?" Dean shook his head in response as he dropped his gaze to the blankets that had pooled around his waist when he sat up.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," he started. "That dream...nightmare...wasn't even about the bad stuff."

"Do you want to talk about it?" The detective knew that he needed to help Dean open up about the stuff that had happened to him, but that was not the only reason he asked. He felt a need to protect this boy and in order to save him he would first need to know what the boy was running from.

"It was about the table you found me strapped to. He was standing over me and finishing carving his name into me...I don't understand why that's the thing I dream about. That part wasn't so bad..." Dean hesitated.

He was never one to talk about his feelings before he was kidnapped, and there was certainly no opportunity to do so while he was with Crowley, not that he would have. Now the opportunity had practically thrown itself into his lap. Dean found himself wanting to take that opportunity, but the idea of being locked behind bars again, and this time most likely in a prison he would share with other criminals like Crowley, was just to much. There was no way he could allow himself to face that possibility. Cas surprised him when he spoke up.

"No matter what else happened to you, that was still a bad thing. It's okay for you to think of that as a bad experience because it was. Even if there were worse things that happened, that doesn't mean that particular thing wasn't still horrible, Dean. I just wish I had gotten there sooner," Cas sighed and Dean realized that the detective felt guilty. He didn't quite know what to do with that information so he just silently reached out and grasped one of the older man's hands in his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Cas smiled and then noticed for the first time that Dean was not wearing a shirt. His eyes skimmed down the younger man's bare chest and abdomen, noticing for the first time how toned he was. Cas had only seen this part of Dean while it was covered in bandages previously and he found himself having to tear his gaze away. He cast his eyes to the floor for a moment before gently pulling his hand from Dean's and standing. Casting one last smile at the younger man he went to leave the room.

"Well, try to get some more sleep, Dean. I'll see you in the morning," Cas smiled back at him before turning off the bedroom light and walking back across the hall. Once again he left both doors open and the hallway light was still on.

Dean watched the detective until he was back in the darkness of his own bedroom. The younger man had not failed to notice that Cas had been shirtless as well. He had taken notice of that fact as he had been contemplating going back behind bars for telling Cas what he had done. When he had taken Cas's hand he had to restrain himself from touching more of the bare skin before him. Dean still wasn't comfortable with much contact of any kind, but he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to run his hands over that smooth looking, pale skin. He laid back down with that thought and drifted back to sleep, dreaming of running his hands over those muscular abs and through that just-fucked, black hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Another chapter as promised! No smut yet, but I'm getting there. Please favorite/review! I love receiving feedback!

As always: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters!

 **Chapter 3**

"I don't want to leave you alone, but I won't bring you in there with me. Are you okay with waiting alone in my office?" Castiel asked as they arrived at the police station the next day. Some of the victims had been released from the hospital and would be coming here for interviews and statements today. Their statements would help to build a stronger case against Crowley, not that it wasn't basically ironclad already. Cas didn't want to leave any stone unturned, however. It was his personal goal to see that the British man received the toughest sentence possible when his court date finally came.

"Yeah, I'll wait," Dean nodded his approval of Cas's suggestion and followed the detective into his office at the station. Cas gathered some files, a notebook, and a few pens while Dean took a seat on a small couch near one wall of the office. It was a small room, but Dean felt comfortable and he stretched out, hoping to take a nap while Cas was working.

"I'm not sure how long this will take. I keep a few books on that shelf behind you and there are some magazines on the coffee table. If you need anything the receptionist, Anna, is just outside this door and to the left. I'll be in conference room one. If you need me she can get me, okay?"

"Thanks Cas," Dean smiled from his relaxed position before closing his eyes. Cas smiled back and then closed the door softly behind him before making his way to the conference room.

"Yo, how's it going bro," Gabriel greeted as Cas entered the conference room. Cas rolled his eyes, but took a seat beside the blonde and began arranging his files for the interviews. Gabe had already set up the recorder. They would only have to press the button to start it.

"Gabriel, can you try to be a little more serious today? These interviews are very important."

"I know Cassie. I just missed my little brother, that's all. I haven't seen you in nearly two weeks." They were not brothers by blood, but Gabe's family had adopted Cas when he was young. He considered the blonde as a brother, but their personalities could not have been any more different. Gabe was outgoing and confident, while Cas tended to be introverted and quiet.

"Perhaps we can grab coffee after this, if Dean's feeling up to going out," Cas offered and Gabe agreed.

"Gentlemen, your first interview is here. Should I bring him in?" Anna's voice called from the intercom in the center of the table.

"Yes Anna. Please show him to conference room one," Castiel replied before releasing the button.

They had chosen to use a conference room instead of the normal interview rooms. Those rooms were used more for criminals, not victims. They wanted these people to feel as comfortable as possible so that they would be more willing to speak. A psychologist would also be joining the interviews. Castiel chuckled inwardly when he saw that it would be Jessica, the one Dean hated so much. She would be present to make sure that none of the victims, or the detectives, pushed anyone to hard to speak about the horrible experiences they'd endured.

Most of what they learned during the first three interviews did not surprise them. The victims spoke of living in the cells and of listening to the screams from Crowley's "play times." They described what type of food they ate on the rare occasions it was given and what type of people they saw around them or in the warehouse. It was helpful to hear more about Crowley's minions as a couple of them had been captured. Those men had been interviewed by Gabe almost immediately after the initial arrest and the statements of these victims would help to put them away as well.

The interview that caught Castiel's attention today, was the fourth interview. This man had actually survived one of the "play times" and was willing to describe the experience to them. Cas was hoping to get Dean's statement as well, but any other condemning statements were welcome if it would help to guarantee Crowley's guilt. The man, who must have been at least 45, had taken a cup of coffee before they began, and he clutched it tightly when he started speaking about the procedure room.

"The man spoke about it as if it was a hospital room. ' _Procedure room one,'_ he'd say. Then the other men would drag me there and that's were the kid would be..."

"The kid?" Gabe prompted.

"I think he was another victim, but that bastard made the kid do all of the cutting. I could tell the kid hated doing it, but the British guy would always threaten him if he tried to stop," the man looked as though he felt bad for the kid. His gaze was focused on the coffee.

"What kind of threats?" Castiel asked.

"He told the kid that if he didn't do whatever he had been asked to do; cut, chop, slice, then his brother would get it." The man glanced up at them now. "The kid may have done all the damage to me, but I don't hate him for it. Just makes me hate that bastard even more."

When they were escorting him out they bumped into Dean, who was just leaving the bathroom. Dean's eyes widened in alarm and he dropped his head, gaze focused on the floor as if he wanted it to just swallow him. He looked extremely uncomfortable and Cas's heart went out to him. The gentleman they had been escorting noticed Dean and recognized him instantly.

"It's you. I'm so glad you made it out okay kid," he said before stepping forward and pulling Dean into a short hug. "I wanted to have a chance to tell you that I'm not mad at you. None of it was your fault." He released Dean and when he pulled back, dropping his arms to his sides, they could all see that Dean was crying.

"I...I'm so...sorry," he choked as he tried to hold back a sob. Dean ground his teeth together and swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I'm not mad at you. That British bastard is the only one at fault kid," the man said before patting Dean's shoulder and then allowing Gabe to escort him to the exit. Castiel stayed beside Dean, quietly leading the younger man back into his office and shutting the door.

"Will you arrest me now?" Dean quietly asked while Cas was still closing the door. The detective turned around to see Dean holding out his wrists, gaze still on the floor, tears streaming down his face.

"Why..." Cas was stunned by the question and wasn't really sure how to respond.

"I don't want to go back into a cell...but I did some horrible things to those people. A lot of people...died because of what I did." Dean's voice was quiet and gravely with unshed tears. He continued to hold out his wrists, waiting for the cold steel to wrap around them.

"Did you do them because you wanted to, or because he made you?" Castiel tried to ask the question in a way that would make Dean realize that the gentleman in the hall was telling the truth.

"He said he'd hurt Sam. He made me watch him hurt Sam when I refused, so I stopped refusing. I thought I was saving Sam, but he was already...dead...wasn't he?" The question was clearly rhetorical. Cas walked around Dean and over to his desk then. Opening one of the drawers he pulled out a sheet of paper that was in an evidence bag and led Dean back to the couch, getting him to sit down.

"This was found with Sam. He died about a year and two months ago. You should read it." Cas handed him the note he had found on the day he rescued Dean and watched as the younger man read it.

 _Dean, if you ever find this letter I just want you to understand one thing. I took my own life. There was nothing else I could do to help you and I knew Crowley was using me to force you to do bad things. Now that I'm dead, you're free. Get out as soon as you see a chance. Love, Sam._

Dean brought one elbow onto his knee and placed that hand over his eyes as he allowed himself to cry. As the sobs wracked his upper body he leaned against Cas and didn't shy away when the detective wrapped one arm around his shoulders. They sat like that in silence until Dean started wiping his face, pulling himself back under control, and handed the letter back to Castiel.

"Thank you...for that," Dean offered a small smile, but it quickly dropped. "So, aren't you going to arrest me, now that you know?"

"You are a victim, Dean, not a criminal. You only did what you did because you were being psychologically tortured with threats against Sam. Judging by the number of scars you bare, nothing else could have made you do those things. I will not arrest you," Cas assured him. Dean took a deep breath and smiled, but said nothing. "Would you like to go home now? I'm done here for today," Cas offered and Dean nodded eagerly.

One the way back to the house, Castiel made one stop. It was the drive through of a local burger joint and he could see the joy it brought to Dean's face. Upon entering Cas's house, Dean wasted no time shedding his boots and jacket and carrying their food to the table. He sat and immediately dug into his burger. Cas smiled as he walked over to the fridge to grab a couple bottles of water before sitting to eat his own burger. Dean really was cute sometimes.

 _Wait, did I just think he is cute,_ Cas shook his head and tried to focus on eating. With his social ineptitude Castiel wondered if he should perhaps speak to one of his friends. He certainly had a lot of feelings he needed to work through after this last case and he knew that his friends would be willing to listen if nothing else.

"You have an appointment with Jessica tomorrow," the detective spoke as Dean finished eating. The only response he received was a grunt as the younger man stood and tossed his wrapper in the trash.

"Would it be any easier for you to speak with her if I wasn't there? I mean, do you want me to wait in the hall or something?" His thoughts wandered back to Dean's earlier comments about getting arrested and he had to wonder if Dean would be more willing to open up about those experiences if a police officer wasn't present.

"Um..." Dean scratched the back of his head with his right hand as his left made its way into his jeans pocket. He was still standing in the kitchen, looking rather unsure of how to respond. "I really don't like her. I guess...maybe I can try going in by myself, but I would like it if you stayed close by...in case I change my mind."

Castiel agreed and then after tossing his own wrapper away, the two made their way to the living room. They watched TV for a while before deciding to go to bed. It had been a relaxing evening and Cas was satisfied by the events of the day. It seemed that the younger man was starting to trust him more and Cas could only hope that Dean would be happy here.

When they arrived at the hospital for Dean's therapy appointment the next day the younger man was very tense. During the car ride he had fidgeted with his hands and now he was pacing back and forth in front of Jessica's office. Castiel sat calmly in a chair off to one side and watched Dean's movements.

"Remember Dean. I'll be right here, so if you ever feel like you can't do it, or if you want me to go in there, just ask," he assured once again.

"Right. Tell that to the she-devil," Dean grumbled.

When Jessica came out to get them Cas took a moment to explain the situation to her. She looked extremely pleased, but promised Dean that Castiel would be welcome to join them whenever Dean wanted. With that Dean followed her into the room and Cas returned to his earlier seat as she closed the door. Figuring that he had a little time, he decided to call one of his friends to talk and perhaps get some advice.

"Hello Castiel!" Balthazar answered on the first ring.

"Hi Balthazar. Are you busy right now?"

"Oh! Are we going somewhere? You usually don't call unless you want a wingman."

"I was just hoping to talk. I could use some advice," Cas explained. Without giving away any private details of the case Cas explained the general situation he had found himself in with Dean. He knew that Balthazar would not be one to judge him for having inappropriate thoughts about a minor, so he left nothing out.

"Can you tell if Dean returns any of your feelings?"

"It's a little complicated right now. He's a trauma victim after all, but...I have seen him staring a few times."

"Well, I suggest just supporting him for now. If he feels the same way, I'm sure he'll let you know when he's ready. You deserve happiness my friend. From what I'm hearing, you've got it bad for this young man. Just take it slow."

"Okay, thank you Balthazar."

"Anytime," Balthazar responded before ending the call.

Meanwhile, in Jessica's office, Dean was starting to open up more about what happened when he and Sam were first kidnapped. He hadn't felt like discussing the torture he was forced to inflict, but thought he should give her something. She was only trying to do her job and help him after all.

Dean described how they had been captured as they had been walking back to Bobbie's house after a quick run to the gas station. At first they had been kept unconscious so Dean couldn't remember how they were transported, but he remembered waking up in his cell, the same one he would live in for the next two years. The next thing he remembered was a skinnier, brunette man coming in and beating him. At that time Sam had been kept in a cell right across from him, so the younger brother was forced to watch the beatings when he wasn't enduring his own.

Jessica listened to all of this quietly, making an occasional note on her clip board. She offered gentle smiles or an encouraging nod whenever Dean hesitated, but she wanted to keep him talking. It would be good for him to learn to share his feelings, not only about this experience, but in general. This was wonderful progress he was making today and she wasn't about to say something and potentially derail his story.

Dean stopped talking when he reached the part of the story where he and Sam were separated. Jessica could tell that he didn't want to continue and so she decided to wrap up their session for the day. She encouraged him to think about the feelings he had experienced and to perhaps look for a healthy outlet such as a hobby or activity he enjoyed. She then opened the door for him and watched as Dean walked over to Castiel, who was now standing by his chair. The younger man wrapped his arms around the detective's waist and buried his face in the other man's shoulder. Cas looked up at her, startled for a moment, but hesitantly returned the hug.

"Can we go now?" Dean asked as he abruptly ended the hug and began walking down the hall. A still somewhat stunned Cas quickly trailed after him.

"Of course. What would you like to do now?" Dean got into Castiel's car and closed the door before answering.

"Could we maybe...go to a junk yard or something?"

"A junk yard?"

"The she-devil suggested I get a hobby. I like fixing things," Dean shrugged. Cas nodded and drove them to the only junk yard he could think of. It was rather small, but it was outside city limits and rarely received business. The detective had met the owner a few times as criminals would sometimes attempt to hide themselves in the forested part of his property. The owner never hesitated to call law enforcement if he noticed anything and was always willing to cooperate with them, for which Castiel was grateful.

He drove up to the large steel outbuilding that served as the owner's office and workshop and parked. As they got out of the vehicle Cas noticed the excitement on Dean's face as the younger man looked around. He led them into the workshop where they found the owner attempting to repair a tire.

"What can I do for you officer?" the older gentlemen, Rufus, greeted them.

"We're just here to look around, perhaps buy something." Cas looked at Dean and nodded. "Go ahead and have a look around Dean."

"Uh...okay," Dean hesitated, but at Cas's prompting he walked outside to take a look at the vehicles on the lot. Castiel took this opportunity to have a talk with the owner.

"Whatever he finds out there, I have no tools for him to fix it. I was hoping to ask you for a favor," he started. Rufus nodded. "Would you be willing to let him work on it here? In exchange perhaps he can help you out by cleaning or helping to fix things for your customers?"

"Is he handy?" Cas understood that the owner was asking about Dean's skill with tools, but he didn't really know how to answer.

"He said he likes fixing things, but honestly, I've never seen him work so I don't know. I guess we'll both find out once he starts fixing whatever he finds out there."

The owner nodded in agreement and Cas then walked outside to see if Dean had found anything. He walked around for about five minutes before he finally found Dean near the back of the lot. The younger man was looking at a car that was buried under brush and spare parts. The paint had been chipped off of it, as though someone wanted to repaint it, but never had the chance, and it was dented in a few places. The windows were intact though, and the black leather interior appeared to be in good condition.

"Find something you like?" Cas asked as he walked up to stand beside Dean.

"It's an Impala," Dean replied as if that was the only answer needed.

"Well then, it's yours. I'll go talk to the owner," Castiel smiled and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before turning to go back to the building, leaving Dean speechless and staring back at him.


	4. Chapter 4

Another chapter is here already! The next one might take a little bit longer. In this one we have our boys being their usual clueless selves. No smut yet. Please favorite/review!

And of course, I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters!

 **Chapter 4**

As Dean enjoyed his hobby, Castiel found a new one of his own. The detective thought he could watch the younger man work forever and never grow bored. Dean would work on the car nearly every day while Cas started going back to work. When he had finished his shift for the day Cas would go to the shop and watch as Dean crawled around under the car or under the hood fixing things. The younger man's movements were always precise and Cas could tell that Dean knew exactly what he was doing.

Rufus had deemed Dean's skill to be adequate, clearly an understatement in Cas's opinion, and the owner allowed Dean free use of the workshop and its tools. The younger man made sure not to waste the opportunity and when he wasn't assisting the owner with work orders, he threw himself into repairing the Impala.

As he worked he began to notice the way Cas watched him. At first he brushed it off as curiosity. The detective clearly didn't know much about mechanic work, judging by the few questions he had asked, and Dean thought the man might be attempting to learn by observing the work. There was no world in which Cas might be staring for another reason. That was just wishful thinking on Dean's part, so he continued his work and made a point of doing his best to explain things when Cas did ask questions.

After a couple weeks of this had passed, Dean started to feel frustrated. He had always found Castiel to be attractive, but he was only 16. Someone like Cas, a detective no less, would never think of him in that manner. For the first time Dean found himself missing his little brother's annoyingly accurate emotional talks. He missed Sam all the time, but he had never been fond of discussing emotions, not even with Sam. At this moment, however, Dean knew that Sam would know exactly what to say and he would love nothing more than to sit down and have a 'chick flick' moment with him.

One night, after eating dinner with Cas, Dean decided to ask for a favor. So far he had only asked Cas for a few things; to stay with him, let him watch the cooking, and a trip to the junk yard, but the request he was about to make made him nervous. He wasn't nervous about asking so much as he was nervous about actually being allowed to do what he wanted to do.

"Hey Cas?"

"Yes Dean?" the detective responded as he rinsed their plates and placed them in the dishwasher.

"I, uh...I was wondering..." Dean stood on the other side of the table from Cas, once again scratching the back of his neck nervously. Cas dried his hands and turned to face the younger man, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"Would it, maybe, be okay if I...visit Sammy's grave?"

"Of course. When would you like to go?" Cas looked at Dean with a concerned, compassion that made Dean shiver. It was such a caring look, one that the younger man had never received from anyone, save for Sam or Bobby, but this was different. It took him a moment to regain his composure enough to respond.

"Tomorrow?" Cas smiled warmly and nodded.

It was a Saturday morning and Cas did not have to work all weekend. They had eaten a quick breakfast before getting into Cas's car and heading for the graveyard. No family had come forward when the boys had been found so Sam had been buried in a graveyard in town. Dean asked for some time alone once they got there, so Cas stayed in the car and observed as Dean walked up to the site and knelt by the stone marker. He could see that Dean was speaking and his lips turned up in a small, sad smile.

"Hey ya, Sammy," Dean started as he knelt. It felt odd to speak to a stone, but this was his brother and the only person he needed right now. "I, uh...need a chick flick moment, and you're it bitch." He swallowed around a lump that was trying to form in his throat. "I'm not hear to cry over you being gone. I did enough of that already. I have some...feelings...I need to sort out. I know, I know, not like me to want to talk about those, but..." Dean ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I like Cas. I mean, really like him. I think I might even...love him." The last part was a whisper. "I just don't know what to do about it. He's a detective and I'm...damaged goods. If it was even possible for him to like me, and I do mean IF, how would I tell?"

He went on to list off the reasons he thought he wasn't good enough for Cas and why he shouldn't even be thinking about the detective in that manner until, suddenly, an acorn struck him in the head. Dean looked around, stunned. It was fall, but the nearest oak tree was at least thirty feet away. But as he looked around, Dean realized that there was no one else there that could have thrown it. Cas was still sitting his car. The young man chuckled then.

"Bitch. You did that on purpose." The wind gusted just then and Dean swore he could hear Sam's laughter. "Okay then. You're right, Sammy. Love you man," he said as he patted the head stone and picked up the acorn before standing. Smiling, he turned and walked back to the car.

"Everything okay?" Cas asked as Dean closed the car door. The younger man held the acorn on his palm before closing his fist around it.

"Yeah. Can we go to the shop today?" Cas raised an eyebrow at the acorn, but chose not to comment on it.

"Sure Dean. Let's go," he replied.

The shop was surprisingly warm when they arrived. The fall air was crisp, but it was still about 60 degrees outside. The inside of the shop was 75 degrees according to the thermometer by the door. Cas immediately removed his black jacket and Dean took off his flannel shirt, leaving him in only the black t-shirt. When they commented on the heat the owner of the shop frowned disapprovingly at them.

"I'm old. I like the heat," Rufus replied grumpily, before returning to working on a motorcycle that had come in. Dean offered to help, but he waved the younger man off. "I'm not too old that I can't handle one bike on my own."

Dean shrugged and walked over to the Impala. This heat actually gave him an idea. He started working underneath the car, finishing attaching the new fuel lines. It took him nearly an hour, during which time Cas had left to get some coffee. When he had gotten back he had taken a seat on one of the chairs near the wall that was behind the office and right in front of the Impala. It was his favorite place to sit while watching Dean work.

During the hour Dean had spent under the car, he had worked up a sweat in the heat of the shop. In a calculated move, he pulled his black t-shirt over his head and walked slowly over to a chair to place it next to his flannel shirt. Cas happened to be sitting on the chair right next to it and as Dean walked up he watched the way the older man's eyes skimmed every inch of exposed flesh. He offered Cas a smile he hadn't used since he had been in school. It was the slow, sexy smile he had used, quite effectively, on all of the girls.

Castiel swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry, and watched as Dean turned and strode back over to his car. The younger man then popped the hood of the car and leaned over it to keep working. From this angle Cas was given a nice view of Dean's ass and he took a moment to appreciate the way the blue jeans clung to his hips and hugged every curve. He shook his head and quickly looked down at his coffee cup.

What was he thinking, checking Dean out like that? Then again...Cas remembered the smile Dean had shown him. He looked up to catch the younger man's glance before he looked back at the car and leaned forward a little farther, sticking his ass out just a bit more. _Is Dean trying to seduce me?_ Castiel's eyes widened slightly at the realization and he coughed, drawing Dean's attention.

"Um...It's nearly lunch time. Are you ready to leave?" Cas tried to cover his embarrassment at his wayward thoughts.

"Sure," Dean smiled, wiping his greasy hands on a rag before closing the Impala's hood. He then turned and walked slowly back over to the chair to retrieve his t-shirt and flannel. As he walked, Dean made a point of slowly stretching his arms above his head, as if his shoulders had gotten tired from working. He was delighted to see Cas lick his lips, eyes locked on the muscles as they rippled from Dean's movements. Once he pulled the t-shirt over his head, Cas seemed to snap out of his revere.

"Right, I'll go get the car."

"Isn't it parked right outside?"

"Running...uh, you know, started. I meant that I'll get it started." Cas seemed flustered and Dean fought back a smirk.

"Right. I'll be out there in a second," Dean said as he pulled on his flannel shirt. Cas quickly left the building and Dean walked over to Rufus to say goodbye.

"Are you okay going with that man?" Rufus asked as he walked up.

"Why?" Dean frowned.

"He doesn't...force himself on you...does he? 'Cause that man looked like he wanted to eat you alive, kid." Dean nearly choked.

"No! No, he would never hurt me. I'm fine, I promise," Dean assured him.

"The detective is a good man, far as I can tell. I just had to make sure, you know." The owner smiled at him then and Dean realized that Rufus knew exactly what he had been doing. He blushed, pressing his lips into a thin smile before ducking his head and leaving.

While he had been waiting in the car, Castiel had convinced himself that he was imaging everything that had happened in the shop today. There was no way that Dean could be attracted to him as well. He had never been that lucky in his entire life so why should this be any different. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he ran a hand through his already messy hair and sighed.

Even if it had meant nothing, he had still thoroughly enjoyed watching a shirtless Dean work on that car. It made his heart hurt when he thought of the scars that littered the younger man's skin, though. The fact of the matter was that Dean would bear the physical and emotional scars from that experience for the rest of his life and Cas wished, for what seemed like the millionth time, that he had gotten there sooner. He realized that the only thing he could do now was protect Dean and make sure that nothing like that ever happened to him again.

Dean got into the car and they rode back to Castiel's house in silence. They had sandwiches and lemonade for lunch and when they were done Dean decided to take a nap on the couch. Cas still felt the need to clear his head, so he headed to his basement where he had a small gym. He stopped in his bedroom to change into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, before making his way down the stairs.

The first space in the basement was what he considered to be his office. His desk was in the far corner facing the center of the room, a white board and a cork board adorning the walls behind it. There was a police scanner in the opposite corner from the stairs, but this room had very little else in it. He walked to the left, alongside of the stairs and through a door. This was the laundry room and there was another door, to the right, that contained a half bath. He continued forward, through a final door, to his home gym. There was a treadmill, a bench that allowed him to lift weights or work his legs, a pull-up bar, and some bands that were hanging from the ceiling in one corner.

Cas started by stretching. It had been a few weeks since he was down here last and he didn't want to pull anything. Next he took a short jog on the treadmill, and once he was warmed up he began lifting weights. When Dean came looking for him 45 minutes later, he was shirtless and hanging from the pull-up bar.

"Twenty nine, thirty," he grunted before he noticed Dean and dropped to the floor. "Hello. Have a nice nap?" Dean blinked. He had been staring at Cas's shirtless and sweaty form, but tried desperately to focus on what Cas had said.

"Uh...yeah. I didn't know you had a gym," he motioned to the room.

"Yeah, I like to stay in shape for work. With my odd hours sometimes, it can be hard to go to an actual gym, so this was the best option." Cas observed as Dean struggled not to let his eyes wander...and failed. "Well, I'm just gonna...go take a shower. We have to leave for your appointment soon."

"Right," Dean shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the detective's hard abs, "...the she-devil. Great."

They arrived at the hospital for the appointment about 45 minutes later. Dean had been meeting with Jessica alone for the past three sessions and told Cas that he would like to do so again today. Cas took his usual seat by the wall, picked up a magazine, and began flipping through it as Dean walked into the office.

"How are you today, Dean?" Jessica asked pleasantly as he entered the room.

"I'm fine. Still working on the car just about every day."

"I told you a hobby would help!" she responded excitedly. Dean rolled his eyes. "Are you ready to keep talking about the torture?" Dean had finally opened up to her last session, and had told her a little bit about the torture he had been forced to inflict.

"There ain't much more to talk about," Dean grumbled.

"You haven't told me how it made you feel," she stated. They were sitting now and she was holding her pen above her clip board, waiting for a response.

"It made me feel terrible! But I already cried it out when one of the victims approached me. He forgave me, Cas convinced me that it wasn't my fault, I moved on. End of story," he sighed, exasperated. "I have something else I'd rather talk about today."

"Oh?" Jessica was intrigued.

"I, uh...don't have a lot of people in my life that I can talk to for advice...and I really don't wanna ask Cas about this..." he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'd be happy to help in any way I can," she smiled, happy that Dean was feeling more comfortable opening up to her.

"I was just wondering...when you like someone...and they seem to be clueless about it, no matter what you do...how do you tell if they like you back? I mean...I have some experience from back when I was in school, but this is different."

"Why is this different?"

"This person...means a lot more to me," Dean was feeling a bit uncomfortable discussing his personal feelings with her, but he needed the advice.

"Well, let me ask you this. What would you do if this person didn't mean more? How would you handle it if this person was one of the people from school?" Jessica had put her pen down and was leaning forward slightly now.

"I guess I would start by complimenting something about how they look...then I'd ask them out."

"Earlier you said this person was clueless no matter what you do. Have you tried that with them yet?"

"Okay. I guess I have an idea. Great talk doc," Dean stood and pulled on his leather jacket. This time Jessica rolled her eyes, as she could tell Dean was being sarcastic with that last comment.

"See you next week," she said as she opened the door for him. Dean followed Cas out to the car and they made their way back home in silence while Dean contemplated what to do next.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm excited to bring you another chapter! This one ends in a bit of a cliff hanger so I'll do my best to post the next one soon. Please favorite/review. I love hearing from you all!

Again: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters!

 **Chapter 5**

Dean had spent the next two weeks doing what he called 'laying the ground work' with Cas. He took every opportunity to compliment the older man, but kept it subtle. There was still some small part of Dean that hoped Cas would make the first move, but as time passed Dean realized that Cas was either oblivious to what he was doing or he was ignoring it. He would have to step up his game soon.

Castiel wanted Dean very much. He had stopped trying to deny that fact recently. Cas had noticed the compliments he had been receiving lately, but the thing that drove him wild was that Dean had taken to working on his car shirtless every day. The car would be done soon, just needing a paint job to finish it, and the detective was almost sad. When Dean was working he had a reason to stare. Silently, Cas cursed his social ineptitude as he still couldn't tell if Dean returned any of his feelings or if the younger man was just being unintentionally sexy.

As he pondered these thoughts Castiel was sitting on his couch, his eyes wandering the newspaper in his hands without actually seeing any of the words. Occasionally he turned the page so that Dean wouldn't notice anything was up. Dean was currently flipping through channels on the TV. He finally stopped on a rerun of Doctor Sexy, which had Cas lowering his newspaper to raise an eyebrow at the younger man.

"What? I like this show..." Cas laughed at his response.

"I just didn't expect someone as young as you to like a show like this," he explained.

"Well, if you must know, I think the main actor is hot and before you ask, yes. I am bisexual," Dean responded. This hadn't been his intention when he turned this show on, but it was a pleasant outcome none-the-less.

"So...does that mean I won't have to give you the talk?" Cas was tilting his head sideways again, his expression curious. This time it was Dean who laughed.

"Not when it comes to makin' babies at least. I got that side of the field covered pretty well."

 _Does that mean he's never actually been with a man?_ Cas wondered. Dean went back to watching his show and Cas continued to pretend to read the paper until he received a phone call.

"Castiel speaking." Dean looked up curiously from his place on the floor in front of the couch.

"What?!" Cas dropped his paper on the coffee table as he stood, heading for the door.

"Of course he can't! Why would the guard...uh huh...Look I'll come down there myself. Don't do anything until I get there." With that Cas hung up the phone and pulled on his shoes and black trench coat. His suit jacket lay forgotten on the back of the couch.

"Dean, I need to go to the station for a little while. Are you okay staying here?" Dean nodded, raising one hand in a wave. Cas smiled kindly at him before leaving, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Wonder what that was about," Dean mumbled as he turned his attention back to the TV, deciding to ignore the strange call.

Castiel drove to the station as quickly as possible. For some reason he could not fathom, one of the guards had requested permission to allow Crowley to take a walk outside of the prison he was currently awaiting court in. The detective intended to see to it that the serial killer would never see the light of day again, unless it was for transport to court and then to execution.

When he arrived at that station, which was directly next door to the prison, he walked inside to speak with Gabe first as he was the one who called. Stepping inside, he was met with utter chaos. Cops were gathering their gear and the swat team was running toward the garage where their van was stored.

"Gabriel! What's going on?" Cas asked as he stopped his brother.

"Shit, Castiel. The guard was in on it. He broke out." Cas's blood ran cold, his jaw clenching in anger.

"Fuck. How long have they been gone?"

"No longer than twenty minutes," Gabe cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Do you know something?" Cas was already running back toward the entrance as he shouted his answer over his shoulder.

"Dean was Crowley's favorite 'toy.' If the guard was in on it..."

"They know where Dean is. Shit," Gabe quickly directed the swat team to head for Cas's house, before running out and jumping into his squad car to follow Cas.

Castiel's house was towards the outskirts of town and was a fifteen minute drive from the station if one followed the speed limits. It took Cas approximately seven minutes to get there, but as he pulled into his driveway he could already tell that he had been too late. The garage door was open and he never left it open.

Jumping out of his car, he pulled out his gun and forced himself to walk as he entered the garage. He heard Gabriel's squad car pull up and then Gabe was walking up behind him, weapon drawn. They nodded to each other and walked up to the door, which had clearly been kicked in. Cas entered first, clearing the kitchen as Gabe went right, clearing the living room.

They then moved down the hallway, clearing the bedrooms and bathroom, before moving to clear the basement. Once they had checked every room in the house Cas took a moment to survey the damage. When he left Dean had been in the living room so he started there. The TV was still on, and he reached up to flick it off before turning to look back at the room.

The couch was laying on its back, the end tables beside it knocked over as well. Glass from a vase that had been on one of the end tables was scattered across the floor and there was blood on some of it. Cas swallowed, silently praying to a God he didn't believe in, that the blood wasn't Dean's. There was a vaguely person shaped dent in the plaster wall a few feet behind the couch. The bookshelf next to that dent had apparently taken a hit as well. Two of the shelves were broken and books littered the floor in front of it.

Some of the blood that had been on the glass had left a trail into the kitchen. The kitchen table had been shoved out of its original location and the chairs were laying haphazardly underneath it. There was a smear of blood on the kitchen counter where everything had been knocked off. A bloody hand print covered the left side of the knife block and Cas noticed that the butcher knife was missing from it.

Gabe had called the forensics team and they were arriving now. Cas allowed them to work and they started in the living room. The detective moved to the last place he hadn't surveyed, Dean's bedroom. The door had been kicked here as well. The mattress and box spring were sitting sideways, as though someone had flipped them up. Lastly, Cas noticed that the window was unlocked and it was still open a crack. At that moment he came to the same conclusion that the attackers must have, Dean had escaped.

"Dean escaped through the window," Cas informed Gabe as he quickly walked back outside, his brother following.

"We'll find him Cas," Gabe squeezed his shoulder quickly before they both got into Gabe's squad car to begin searching.

Dean's lungs were burning and he knew he would have to stop soon. He turned sharply to the right, ducking into an alley. The van had been about a block and half behind him, so Dean was hoping that it wouldn't have noticed his turn. Not wanting to take any chances, he ran through that alley to the next street, running up another block before turning into another alley and ducking behind a dumpster. He fell onto his knees, bracing himself with one palm on the dumpster, as he gasped for breath.

Dean didn't know how far he ran, but a quick glance at his watch told him he had been running for nearly thirty minutes. _Sam would be proud,_ he chuckled at the fond memory of his brother begging him to eat more vegetables and exercise. Turning his mind back to the current situation, Dean glanced down at his left hand. He had lost the knife after stumbling through some bushes not far from Cas's house.

The cuts he had gotten from the glass were still bleeding. The shards that had cut him were large enough that luckily none of them had embedded themselves into his skin, but that also meant that the gashes were long and deep. As his breathing slowed down a little he shrugged out of his flannel shirt and ripped the sleeves off of his black t-shirt. The air was chilly without a jacket so he didn't want to use his flannel shirt for the bandage, choosing instead to pull it back on and button it before using the t-shirt sleeves to wrap his hand as well as he could.

Suddenly Dean jerked as an arm circled his neck, a rag stuffed into his open mouth to prevent the scream he tried to release. He was dragged to the end of the alley and into the open doors of the black van he had tried so hard to run away from. Once inside Dean's wrists were bound behind him and he was forced to sit on his knees by the person who had captured him.

"You seem to forget how resourceful I am Dean. I'm offended," Crowley's British accent reached him from the front passenger seat. "We'll have to find a creative way to reconcile that." The killer chuckled and silent tears made their way down Dean's face before the younger man felt a needle pierce his skin and he was pulled into darkness.

Castiel grew more frustrated with every hour that passed. They had received a call about a suspicious black van and there was a witness who was able to identify that Dean had been abducted by that van. So far they had no luck tracking down the vehicle. The driver must have been the guard as the van seemed to have avoided every traffic camera in the city. The detective ran his hand through his hair for probably the thirtieth time that day and sighed.

The first thing Dean noticed upon waking was that his hands were zip-tied behind him. The second was that he was cold. Looking down, he noticed that it was because he had been stripped of all clothing except his boxers and he was laying on a concrete floor, most likely in a basement. Wincing at the stiffness in his shoulders, Dean worked himself into a sitting position against one wall and waited.

Crowley had spent his time behind bars planning ways to get out and then to capture Dean, but now that he had the boy, the serial killer wasn't entirely certain what to do with him. Dean wouldn't be so easily controlled now that Sam was dead. He had never been a very exciting torture victim as the boy didn't seem to care what was done to him, so that left the question of how to make him more fun. Crowley sat in an armchair, in a cabin in the woods with the guard and his attendant nearby, while he plotted.

"Castiel, you need to get some sleep," Gabe said as he walked into his brother's office two days later. His normal joking tone had given way to a concerned one as he looked at the dark circles under the detective's eyes.

"You know I can't do that," Cas sighed as he looked up from the small stack of papers in front of him. He had been reviewing the case files from before Crowley's original arrest, checking to see if they might have missed something.

"You've been staring at a blank page for the past five minutes bro. All I'm asking is that you at least try to catch a few hours."

"He's had Dean for nearly fifty five hours now. Did you see where the psychopath had his hand when we arrested him? I'm not going to let Dean stay with that man for any longer than is absolutely necessary." Gabe nodded, realizing he wasn't going to win, and walked forward to place a fresh cup of coffee on the desk before giving his brother a sympathetic smile and walking back out.

Dean released a barely audible, pained grunt as the whip connected with his bare back. He was currently chained to one wall of the basement, his nearly naked body pressed face first to the wall. His eyes were closed and his jaw clenched, but he wouldn't allow Crowley the satisfaction of a reaction if he could help it. A small, dark part of his mind told him that this is what he deserved anyway. One of the victims may have forgiven him, but Dean would never fully forgive himself for the lives he took while under the serial killer's control.

"Well, not quite the reaction I was hoping for," Crowley sighed as he handed the whip back to his attendant. He had swung it ten times in total and had broken the skin four of those times as he had swung harder in an attempt to get a reaction.

Blood slowly ran down Dean's back from the gashes that were laid across his upper back and shoulder blades. The younger man drew deep calming breaths in through his nose, not wanting to unclench his jaw just yet. This was, surprisingly, the first blood that the killer had drawn since catching Dean again and he wondered how long it would be before the British man felt the need to take more.

"Dean...what ever are we going to do with you," Crowley said, almost as if speaking to himself. He walked up behind Dean and was now reaching up to trail his middle finger over the tops of Dean's shoulders from right to left. The younger man inwardly cringed and had to fight an urge flinch away from the man's touch.

"Perhaps we could try electricity, sir," Crowley's attendant offered and the serial killer turned his head to glance at the man, raising one eyebrow. He seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding.

"Nothing to strong though. Wouldn't want to do any permanent damage," the killer spoke softly, his breath now brushing Dean's ear before he dropped his hand and turned to leave.

After Crowley returned, Dean spent the next hour coming in and out of consciousness as he fought to stop any sounds from escaping his lips. The cattle prod grazed his hip and his muscles responded by clenching painfully, but he remained silent.

"Ah! Why didn't I think of it before? We just need to loosen the boy up a little." Crowley stepped out of the room, but returned a moment later, holding a needle in one hand and short piece of rubber in the other. Dean swallowed nervously as the piece of rubber was wrapped tightly around one of his arms before the needle was shoved into a vein, releasing nearly ten milligrams of some drug into his bloodstream.

"There, a little GHB aught to do the trick. Let's leave him to let it kick in for a bit," the killer motioned for his attendant to follow before leaving the room, taking the needle and piece of rubber with him.


	6. Chapter 6

Alright, here's another one for you! I promise I'll get to the smut soon. Please review/favorite!

As always: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters!

 **Chapter 6**

"We found the van," Gabe blurted out as he threw the door of Cas's office open. The detective had been dozing lightly on his arm behind his desk, but was instantly wide awake at his brother's news.

"Where?" He asked as he stood pulling his coat on.

"It's currently sitting in the parking lot of a gas station a few towns over. The locals are gonna stake it out and try to follow it in an unmarked car. Come on, I'll drive."

Dean's head was swimming. He was tired, but felt like he could run a marathon. The oddest feeling, though, was the calm and happiness that kicked in after about a half hour. It was odd because it was the last feeling he ever expected to experience in his current situation. Just as that feeling peaked, Crowley came back into the room.

"Ah, there we go. I think he's ready now," the serial killer laughed as he picked up the whip once more. Dean had been smiling when Crowley walked in. It was gone now, but the younger man's face was calm, not angry like it normally was and the killer couldn't wait to see what reactions he would get this time. He eagerly raised the whip and brought it down over Dean's right shoulder.

Dean's only response was to chuckle. Crowley frowned, not sure if he had heard the small noise correctly, and swung again striking Dean's lower back. The laughter was unmistakable this time as Dean tilted his head back and laughed, his whole body shaking with it.

"What the fuck is so funny," Crowley bellowed, furious that his plan to finally hear Dean's screams had failed.

"You can't even control me with drugs," Dean laughed, turning his head to gaze at the killer and then laughed even harder when he saw the furious glare. When he finally brought himself under control he took a deep breath, suddenly serious. "Why don't you just get to what you really want to do?"

"You know what, you're right," Crowley replied, the furious glare having been replaced by a calm nonchalance. He walked back over to his table of torture instruments and motioned for his assistant to move Dean onto the table and strap him down there. Once Dean was tied down Crowley walked over to the table, standing on Dean's right side.

"Do you recognize this table?" Dean did not respond, instead holding the same calm gaze as before. "It happens to be an exact replica of the one I had you tied on last time we were together like this." Crowley smiled as though it was a fond memory.

Dean's mind went to that memory as well, but he latched onto the image of Castiel standing over him and telling him that Crowley had been arrested. The killer was speaking now, but Dean kept focusing on that memory and did not hear what the man was saying. He saw Cas's beautiful blue eyes, strong jaw and just-fucked hair. He imaged what Cas's hair might look like after he had sex and that thought lead to more pleasant images.

Crowley noticed Dean had closed his eyes, but chose to believe it was because the boy dreaded what was about to happen. He lifted up the blade he had been holding at his side and dragged it across the inside of Dean's forearm, just hard enough to draw blood. His eyes remained on Dean's face as he repeated the action on Dean's shin, watching for any reaction. He made three more cuts, to Dean's chest, neck and face, becoming increasingly frustrated as he received no reaction what-so-ever. The way the boy was laying there, one would almost think he was dead if it wasn't for the steady beat of his heart as it pushed blood out of the new wounds.

"Dammit! That's it!" Crowley shouted as he finally lost his patience, and subsequently his interest in Dean. He raised the blade high above his head and prepared to plunge it into the boy's heart. He thought to himself that maybe once Dean was dead, he would play with him a little bit more before getting rid of the body, and he grinned as his cock twitched in response. His muscles clenched as he raised the knife a little higher before beginning the downward plunge toward his target.

A single shot rang out before the knife could make contact and Crowley's last thought was that he should have just fucked Dean sooner. Gabe had captured Crowley's assistant just outside of this room and Cas had been the first one in. Before his brain could fully process what was about to happen, he had fired, hitting his target in the heart. He blinked, looking at the killer to make sure he was dead, before lowering his weapon and rushing forward.

"Dean! Shit, please Dean! Answer me," he called as he gently shook the younger man. Cas noticed all of the blood, but what concerned him most was the fact that Dean was not responding or reacting to anything. He hadn't even flinched when the gun had gone off. Cas checked his pulse and then quickly unbuckled the straps that were holding Dean down. He kissed Dean's forehead before pulling him to his chest in a tight hug. Dean grunted slightly.

"Cas..." Dean was mumbling. He sounded so tired and the detective nearly started crying. "My angel came for me." Dean did not open his eyes, but nuzzled his face into the crook of Cas's shoulder and wrapped his arms around the older man. Cas couldn't hold it back any longer and closed his eyes as the tears started streaming down his face. He rested his cheek against the top of Dean's head.

"Always," he whispered. Dean heard the promise in the detective's voice and managed a small, tired smile before sleep finally took him.

Dean had not been pleased to wake up in the hospital yet again. His mood was not improved by the fact that he felt like crap due to the drug. He had a headache and felt rather stiff and sore, beyond the pain from the fresh cuts. The only up side was that since the cuts were so fresh, they were easier to clean and stitch up so the doctor's told him that it should take less time for him to heal.

"Where's Cas," he asked after receiving his status update.

"He had to go to the station and file a formal report," Gabe answered as he stepped into the room. He nodded to the doctor's and they left the two alone.

"For what?"

"Crowley is dead Dean. Castiel shot him when he saw that you were about to die. When stuff like that happens there's a mountain of paperwork to do, but he should be back soon," Gabe explained. He paused when he noticed the look on Dean's face.

"H-he's really...dead?" The younger man was looking up at Gabe with a look of shock and disbelief.

"Yes Dean, he's really dead." Both of them turned towards the sound of that voice to see Cas standing in the doorway. "You're finally free."

Dean smiled then, tears streaming down his face, and reached out to Cas. The detective moved into the room to sit on the edge of Dean's bed as their arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace. Gabe quietly patted Cas's shoulder before leaving the room, understanding that they needed time. Before he could leave the hospital, however, there was a loud shout from the waiting room.

"He's my fucking son! I can see him if I want to, goddammit!" Gabe followed the shout, knowing that police intervention might be required. When he entered the room he found a tall, thin, brunette man yelling at one of the nurses who was standing behind the counter, looking very grateful for the separation.

"Is there a problem here, sir?" Gabe asked the man as he approached.

"Yeah, there is a fucking problem officer! This bitch won't tell me where my son is. I want to see him."

"Who is your son? If you will calm down, perhaps I can help."

"Dean, Dean Winchester. Now take me to him!"

"What is your relationship to Mr. Winchester?"

"I am Mr. Winchester," the man shouted. "I'm his fucking father!"

Castiel had been walking out to the nurses station to see when Dean might be discharged, but he had stopped around the corner, out of sight, when he heard the exchange between his brother and the other man. He quickly turned around to go back to Dean.

"Dean, your father is in the waiting room," he stated calmly and waited for the younger man's reaction. What he did next would be entirely based on Dean. If Dean wanted to see his father then he wouldn't argue. He studied Dean's face as he relayed the news and noticed a slight flinch.

"What does he want?" Dean clenched his jaw, a scowl slowly forming on his face.

"He wants to see you..."

"Well, he's my dad, so I guess there's no stopping it..." He shifted his gaze to the floor on his right, away from Cas. Dean crossed his arms over his chest, wincing briefly as he bumped one of the covered cuts and the detective paid close attention to every movement. Cas knew that crossing one's arms was a way of protecting oneself, and casting your eyes down and to the right was an indication of an internal struggle.

"Actually, that's not true," Cas stated as he smiled reassuringly, before pulling a letter from his jacket pocket.

"You can't stop me!" John Winchester continued to shout at Gabe in the waiting room. The cop could tell that John was becoming more agitated by the moment and he hoped that Cas might come back him up soon.

"Actually we can, Sir," Cas replied calmly as he walked into the waiting room and Gabe smiled.

"The fuck you can! Get out of my way, I'll just find him myself!"

"I would advise against that. You see, the state has recently declared Dean an emancipated minor and he is under police protection until he has a chance to formally file for a restraining order." Cas smiled as he saw the man deflate. After the detective had shown him the letter from the state Dean had told Cas that John was a little gun-shy when it came to the police, but witnessing it first hand was extremely satisfying.

The younger man had not given him much detail, but from what Cas had gathered, he suspected John may have beaten the boys when they were younger. It would be impossible to tell what kind of damage may have been due to the numerous scars covering Dean's body now, but the flinch when he had been told that his father was there was something Cas saw a lot with victims of abuse. He was glad that Dean could now be free of this man as well.

It had taken some time for Dean to fully heal and for Cas to get his house repaired. During the repair process the detective had also decided to have a security system installed and the entire process took about a month. Much to Castiel's surprise, and delight, the newly emancipated teen had asked to continue living with him and he had eagerly agreed. They both moved back in after the repairs were completed.

"So, did I hear one of the nurses say that your birthday is in a few days?" Castiel asked as he started unpacking some of the groceries they had purchased.

"Uh...yeah. It's tomorrow actually," Dean replied, scratching the back of his head nervously. "I don't really celebrate it though."

"Oh? Is there anything that you _would_ like to do?"

"Well...Sammy and I used to just order a pizza and then watch movies," he shrugged.

"That sounds like fun. Do you have a favorite movie?" Cas asked, always eager to learn more about the sexy young man. He shook his head briefly at his wayward thoughts.

"I like Star Wars," Dean smiled

Castiel ordered Dean's birthday pizza at around 5pm the next day. He happened to own all of the Star Wars movies so he pulled one out popped it into the DVD player before moving to the kitchen to get some drinks for them. Dean had gone to take a shower as they had both worked out earlier that afternoon and Cas licked his lips at the memory.

The younger man had borrowed a pair of Cas's sweatpants and had foregone wearing a shirt of any sort. For nearly the entire hour they had spent in Cas's home gym, he had struggled to focus and keep from staring at Dean for to long. The sweatpants had been a little big on him and hung dangerously low on his hips, but Dean hadn't seemed to notice or care. As they worked up a sweat the detective's eyes had been drawn to the toned muscles in Dean's shoulders and abs while he lifted weights or did pull ups.

Dean walked into the kitchen then, hair still slightly damp from the shower, and he was completely shirtless. Cas, who had just managed to pull himself out of the memory of working out, froze momentarily as he took in this new sight. He nearly groaned in frustration. Dean was so sexy and Cas still couldn't tell whether he was doing this on purpose. All he knew was that he wanted Dean badly and he did not know how much more of this he could take.

There was a knock on the door, but neither of them moved toward it. Cas was still frozen from seeing Dean's freshly showered glory, and Dean was studying Cas's face, waiting for a reaction of some sort. When none came the younger man turned to face the door.

"That's probably the pizza. Do you want me to get the door?"

"Huh?" Cas met Dean's gaze and blushed. "Uh, no! I got it. You can just take a seat in the living room. I'll be right there."

Dean smirked at Cas's back as the detective walked away. He picked up the two liter of root beer and the cups Cas had been preparing and walked into the living room. The way Cas had been looking at him just now proved to Dean that his angel wanted him just as badly as he wanted Cas. This was going to be a great birthday.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, okay. I'm done teasing now! This chapter has a healthy dose of smut. (It's rated M for a reason). I'm not the best at endings so if it seems a little abrupt I apologize. This is the final chapter so enjoy, favorite and review! Thank you all for making it this far!

I DO NOT own Supernatural or any of the characters (unfortunately)!

 **Chapter 7**

Castiel did his best to focus on the movie while they ate. Once the pizza was gone they cleaned up a little before deciding to start the next movie. When he was no longer occupied by the food he found it much more difficult to remain focused. He shifted slightly in his position on the couch and extended his arms over the backrest. Dean was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch just to Cas's left and the detective couldn't help but stare at him. The younger man's hair was long dry now, but he was still shirtless.

Suddenly Dean leaned a bit to his right, his bare arm brushing against Cas's leg. Cas had showered before ordering the pizza and was wearing basketball shorts and his usual white t-shirt. He was very much aware of Dean's skin against his and found himself wishing that he had worn jeans. The thought of pulling a blanket over his lap crossed his mind, but he didn't want it to be too obvious. Dean turned toward him then, bringing one hand up to rest on his knee.

"Dean?" Cas found that his mouth was suddenly dry, but he would not allow himself to jump to any conclusions. Dean offered a sexy smirk as his left hand came up to pull Cas's other leg to the side while he moved to kneel on the floor between them. His right hand climbed agonizingly, slowly higher on Cas's thigh.

"Remember how you told me to ask if I want something?" Cas remained silent, but licked his lips. "Well, I found something that I want."

Dean's right hand was now touching the detective's inner thigh and, at those words, Cas stopped holding himself back. His hands cupped Dean's face as he brought their lips together and he finally released the frustrated groan that had been suppressed for far to long. At the slight parting of his lips Dean quickly thrust his tongue into the other man's mouth, exploring as his hands began to explore Cas's body.

Without realizing it Cas had pulled himself forward, sitting just on the edge of the couch in an attempt to get closer to Dean's wandering hands. The older man moaned softly into the kiss as Dean ran his hands over Cas's sides, abs and chest. Dean brushed his thumbs over Cas's nipples and smirked as he felt the other man tense, as if resisting the urge to thrust against him. That wouldn't do.

Cas's eyes widened and he broke the kiss momentarily as he felt himself being lifted off of the couch. He grasped Dean's shoulders for leverage and marveled at the strength he felt as Dean easily carried him the short distance down the hall to his bedroom. He then found himself pinned beneath the younger man on his bed and he briefly wondered why he hadn't been brought to the room that Dean had been living in for the past few months.

The detective's thoughts were cut short when Dean dropped his head to suck on Cas's neck where it met his shoulder. He involuntarily thrust his hips against Dean's and groaned at the friction. The younger man chuckled, seemingly unaffected, and pulled back to look down at Cas. He was smiling softly and Cas returned his gaze.

"Before this goes any farther..." Dean suddenly looked a little bit nervous. Cas remained still, waiting for him to continue. "I really don't want to mess this up." He seemed at a loss for words and Cas decided to guess what he might be trying to say.

"You've never been with a man before, have you?" Dean blushed and looked away for a moment.

"No, but that's not my point. Cas...I love you,"he said as his green eyes came to rest on Cas's. Bright blue eyes stared back at him and Dean couldn't tell if he was seeing confusion or wonder. A few moments of silence passed between them and Dean was starting to worry. Cas blinked as if finally realizing that this was real.

"I fell in love with you the first night I watched you sleep in that hospital, Dean. It makes me so happy to hear you say that." He reached up to caress Dean's face and offered a loving smile. Dean returned it and leaned down to kiss Cas sweetly. The detective felt Dean's confidence return as the kiss slowly became more heated. When they broke for air the younger man was smirking again.

"So about your other concern," he ground his hips down onto Cas and they both groaned. "Are you going to teach me?"

Cas had already recognized the fact that Dean wanted to be on top, in control, and wholeheartedly accepted it. He nodded enthusiastically and then both men were pulling at each other's clothing. Cas lifted his arms to allow his t-shirt to be removed, before reaching down to tug at the button on Dean's jeans. As he lowered the zipper he was pleasantly surprised to learn that the younger man was not wearing any underwear.

Before he could get any farther, Dean quickly stood pulling Cas's shorts and boxers down and tossing them to the floor. He then stepped out of his jeans and took a moment to rake his eyes over Cas's now naked body. The detective's eyes wandered over Dean's body appreciatively before coming to a stop on the younger man's erection. He bit his lower lip hungrily, but forced himself to bring his eyes back up to Dean's face.

Dean was smirking again, but Cas could sense the hunger in his eyes as he moved back onto the bed and resumed his earlier position between Cas's legs. When their erections brushed Cas moaned, dropping his head back onto his pillow. Dean ground his hips down onto the detective and kissed him passionately, their tongues clashing as they both enjoyed the new sensation. Cas eagerly ran his hands over every part of Dean that he could reach, finally exploring the younger man's body like he had wanted to for so long.

The younger man didn't seem to need a lot of instruction and Cas tried not to think about how Dean had learned to do what he was currently doing. Dean had begun moving down the detective's neck and chest, trailing kisses and pausing occasionally to lick or nip at the sensitive skin. He didn't stop until he reached Cas's hips. Another smirk crossed his face as Cas looked down at him, mouth opened slightly as he panted.

Dean allowed his teeth to graze the older man's hip before he sucked a mark into the skin there. He then trailed kisses over to the other hip and bit down gently. His hands moved up and down Cas's thighs, slowly inching higher every time. The detective dropped his head back onto the pillow and groaned, feeling himself begin to lose his patience. His member throbbed almost painfully, and Dean's teasing was driving him insane.

Cas's eyes widened and he moaned loudly when he suddenly felt Dean's mouth close around him. The younger man swirled his tongue around the tip before drawing more of Cas's erection into his mouth. Dean began to move his head up and down, running his tongue along the length and Cas hummed appreciatively. He did not want to cum to early, but it didn't seem like Dean was going to relent any time soon and he could feel himself getting closer to his climax. Sliding up until only the tip was in his mouth, Dean slowly licked the slit as he cupped Cas's balls and the detective couldn't help his involuntary thrust.

"Ah, Dean! So close..." Dean hummed and Cas felt the vibrations run through him. The younger man gently flicked the tip with his tongue before pulling Cas deep into his mouth, hitting his throat. He squeezed Cas's balls gently and sucked hard as he pulled back up. With a final cry of Dean's name Cas reached his climax and the younger man swallowed it all. As he lay panting for breathe, Dean moved up to rest on the bed beside him.

"So, how do we..."

"Lube," Cas spoke between breaths. "Gotten loosen me up first." He pointed to a bottle sitting on his night stand and Dean quickly grabbed it.

"So...kinda like a virgin?" Cas nodded and Dean quickly coated his fingers with some of the lube.

Clearly there would be no break, but Cas was definitely okay with that. It had been a very long time since his last sexual encounter so when Dean's finger slowly pushed into him he hissed in a breath. Dean paused for a moment, letting him adjust, before beginning to move the finger, slowly stretching him. He leaned down to kiss Cas lovingly before gently adding a second finger. Cas moaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and when he began rotating his hips Dean added a third finger.

Castiel was fully hard again and his kissing became more urgent while Dean continued to move his fingers. Trying to relay his desire without breaking the kiss, the detective began meeting the fingers, driving himself down onto them. Dean groaned as he understood and Cas suppressed a whine as the fingers were removed.

Grabbing more lube, Dean coated his thick cock before positioning himself at Cas's entrance. He began pushing himself in slowly and the detective realized that Dean was still treating him like a virgin. Arching his back, he quickly ground himself down, fully sheathing Dean inside of him and the younger man moaned.

"You can stop treating me like a virgin now Dean," Cas's gravelly voice came out sounding like a growl as he pulled back from the kiss. Dean pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in and Cas bit down on his shoulder to suppress his pleasured cries as Dean repeated the motion.

"Let me hear you," Dean nipped at Cas's ear lobe and the older man dropped his head back, moaning loudly as Dean picked up a punishing rhythm. Suddenly Dean sat back on his heels, gripping Cas's hips and pulling him down onto every thrust. He hit Cas's prostate and the detective cried out, quickly nearing his second climax.

Both men were to absorbed in their shared pleasure to form coherent words. Dean gripped Cas's length and began pumping it as his thrusting started becoming irregular. He hit Cas's prostate one more time sending the detective over the edge. As the spasms gripped Dean's cock he thrust once more, burying himself deep inside as he met his own release.

When the spasms stopped and he had been milked dry, Dean gently pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside Cas. The older man rolled into Dean's arms, resting his cheek against Dean's chest and draping one leg over the younger man's. He wrapped his arm around Dean's waist and Dean held him silently as they caught their breaths.

"I love you, Dean," Cas spoke first, lifting his head to look into Dean's eyes.

"Love you too...my angel." Dean pulled him up into a sweet kiss before they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

Time Skip

One month before Dean's 18th birthday Cas made reservations for them at the nicest diner in town. They had only been publicly dating for a little while now, but tonight needed to be special. This was the one year anniversary of the day that Crowley had finally been killed and they both felt like celebrating.

After they had finished their meals they ordered a slice of apple pie to share and while they waited for it they quietly discussed what they wanted to do once they arrived home. Dean had gotten very good at describing the things he wanted and Cas had to hide a blush when the waiter arrived with their pie. He smiled at them as he set it down and then quickly retreated. Dean shrugged at the waiter's slightly odd behavior, but picked up his fork and prepared to dig in. His fork froze in mid air as he spotted a single gold band sticking out of the whipped cream.

"Wha..." he looked up at Cas, clearly confused. The detective smiled nervously, and reached out to pluck the band from on top of the pie. He quickly cleaned it with his napkin before moving to kneel beside Dean.

"Dean, you know I've loved you ever since that first night I watched you sleeping. I waited for so long because, above all else, I wanted you to be free. I wanted you to not have to live in fear and to be able to make all of your own choices. Then, once you were finally free of that demon...you made a choice, and you chose me. Well, now I'm choosing you...again...Dean, will you marry me?" Cas's voice shook with emotion and he bit his lip as he waited for the answer.

Dean was speechless. The first thought to pop into his mind was that Sam would have loved this sappy, chick flick moment. As he looked at the man kneeling before him, bearing his heart to him for the entire restaurant to see, he realized that, just this once, he loved this chick flick moment too. A single tear made it's way down his cheek before he smiled.

"Of course I will." It was nearly a whisper and Cas was the only one who could hear it. When the detective breathed a sigh of relief and leaned forward to pull Dean into a kiss the other patrons cheered. They both blushed and turned to wave briefly before Cas slipped the gold band onto Dean's finger and they hurried to finish their pie. Both wanted to get home as quickly as possible to celebrate behind closed doors, preferably naked.

The wedding took place roughly six months after Dean turned 18. It was a courthouse marriage with Gabe and Anna as their witnesses. They went to Mexico for their honeymoon and spent a week on a private beach swimming and making love. They never heard from Dean's estranged father again and spent the rest of their lives blissfully free.


End file.
